The duelist 3, p.11
The Duelist 3, page 11
“But now she has found a home and people to take care of her,” Shay said and helped Rylan up just as Mel brought over his ladder. “People like you. Go ahead and put her up there.”
“Okay.” The tender-hearted stable-boy carefully climbed up the ladder like a hero returning a princess to her castle.
“Thanks,” I murmured to Shay as I tangled our fingers together.
“I thought he might enjoy this,” she murmured back. “He’s been quite underfoot lately, and Zoie and I keep trying to find things to keep him occupied while you’ve been training.”
“He has?” I asked as I watched Rylan whisper to the queen up in her nest. “I haven’t noticed, so whatever it is you and Zoie are doing must be working. But, if he’s been so underfoot, maybe that’s a sign I need to spend a little more time with him.”
“He understands you’re busy with important things,” she said and squeezed my hand.
“I know, but I basically adopted him as my son, not as a live-in chore-boy or a novelty piece of furniture, and I just hope he knows that,” I said with a frown. “I’ve felt that way in the past, and it’s a rotten thing, to feel like you’re being ignored.”
“I don’t know how anybody could have ignored you,” my phoenix-wife sighed and leaned her head on my shoulder. “I know I couldn’t when I first laid eyes on you.”
I kissed her on the head and hid a smile in her crimson hair.
“Ew, Daaaad,” Rylan whined as he hopped off the last rung of the ladder.
“I’m on to you, you know,” I said and sauntered over to him so I could snare him in a headlock.
“Hey!” he laughed and tried to squirm away.
“You can’t just say that to try and shock me out of being all mushy with my wife,” I said as I gave him a noogie. “One of these days you’ll keep saying it, and the shock will wear off.”
“So…you’re saying I should say it more often?” he ventured, and the odd tone in his voice made me let him go so I could look at his face.
“Only if you want to,” I told him as I placed both hands on his shoulders so the remainder of his suddenly uncertain expression would disappear, and I smiled and turned back to Shay. “What’s next?”
“Next, we release the hive!” the phoenix-woman said.
“The bumblebirds?” Zoie’s voice entered the greenhouse a moment later, and Shay laughed her sultry laugh. “I haven’t missed it, have I?
“You are perfectly on time,” the phoenix-woman said and ran over to pull Zoie closer by the wrist. “Would you like to do the honors, darling?”
“Show me how,” the cat-woman said just as eagerly, if not more so, than Rylan had.
“Stand here,” Shay instructed Zoie to stand right under the hive Lula was in as Mel moved the ladder away. “Now, hold the cage in one hand, and with the other, open the door. Lula will do the rest.”
Zoie did what she was told, and when she opened the small cage door, I watched as the queen bumblebird poked her magenta head out of the hive and gave a long musical trill.
The bumblebirds in the cage responded one at a time with their own trills as if they were doing a sort of roll-call. Then, one by one, they started up their crystalline wings and filed out of the cage single-file.
All of us gathered watched in awe as the majestic little creatures started up a song and dance. They swirled up to the hive in a display of what looked like dozens of soap bubbles on parade because of the way their diamond wings caught the light and formed little iridescent halos around each and every one.
It was quite a sight.
But it paled in comparison to the adoring looks on my family’s faces as they took this simple moment to enjoy the beauty of the bumblebird symphony.
“Beautiful,” Zoie sighed and looped her arm through Shay’s.
“Gorgeous,” I echoed, but I wasn’t talking about the display.
“Dad,” Rylan hissed at me and nudged my side. “You got that mushy look again.”
“One day, you’re going to meet a nice girl, and I’ll be making fun of your mushy look,” I snickered as I leaned my arm on top of his head.
“Never,” he said and crossed his arms with a humpf.
“Suuuure,” I needled until he shoved me off his head.
“Darling?” Shay called over to where Rylan and I had started roughhousing.
“Yes, dear?” I asked as I straight-armed the scrappy kid right in the center of his forehead so he couldn’t hit me with his twiggy fists.
“Zoie and I are going to talk to Vel-Rala,” she continued and tried not to grin. “She will soon be well enough to start her duties as housekeeping staff.”
“Do you want me to come with?” I asked, and I switched hands on Rylan’s head as if I was bored.
“No, no, it’s just estate management stuff that your wives have well in-hand,” she giggled. “You two enjoy your time.”
“Maybe you can teach Rylan to spar,” Zoie suggested with a cheeky wink, and then the two of the mischievous minxes waltzed out the door.
“Where are they going?” Rylan asked when he finally stopped the futile effort to land a jab.
“To do girl duties,” I said.
“Oh, yeah,” he said casually and scuffed his shoe against the ground. “So… did you want to spar, or…?”
I swallowed a laugh at how he tried to play it cool despite the fact it was clear he really wanted to.
“Did you get all your chores done?” I asked and then inwardly groaned at how ‘dad-like’ that sounded.
“Yes!” His shoulders straightened but then drooped a moment later. “Well, technically no, but yes for now.”
“What?” I raised my eyebrows to make it clear I didn’t follow a word of that train wreck.
“The only thing left is to put the poracks in the barn, but that’s not until evening,” he said and scratched his head.
“Alright, then let’s spar in the barn until we have to go get Ben and Jerry,” I suggested.
“Really?” he asked with a bright puppyish grin. “Race you!”
And then my precocious foster-son took off out of the greenhouse before I could blink.
“No fair!” I hollered through a delighted laugh as he one-upped me at my own game, and then I raced after him.
I could tell he had also been working on his stamina because he kept up his breakneck speed longer than usual, but I eventually outpaced him, and I chuckled when he barreled into me with another cry of, “Hey!”
“You’re getting stronger,” I said and pinched his skinny arm between two of my fingers. “Keep it up, and you might win one day.”
“One day, always one day,” he grumbled as he flexed his scrawny bicep.
“I had the same build as you as a kid,” I said as I led us into the large Dutch-style barn. “Don’t worry, you’ll fill out. Now, c’mon. Throw your best jab right here, into my palm.”
I readied my stance and held my right hand up for him.
“Okay!” He then swung a haymaker at me that would have made Donkey Kong jealous, missed my hand by a mile, and almost knocked himself off his own feet if I hadn’t caught him.
“Whoa, there, Bruce Lee, take it easy,” I chuckled and steadied him back on his feet. “Not bad for your first shot, kiddo. But you don’t have to expend that much energy to be just as effective. Start by planting your feet shoulder-width apart. Pretend your feet are rooted to the ground, so you don’t fall over when I do this.”
I pushed his already gawky frame off-center so he would fall on his butt.
“Dad!” he exclaimed with a pout, and I just grinned wider when he called me that for the third time.
The shock of hearing it really was starting to wear off, especially whenever I could see flashes of myself in him. It was odd, and made even odder by the fact we weren’t actually related by blood, but I actually understood the appeal in having kids for once.
I used to think anyone desperate to have children must be harboring some narcissistic tendencies to want to add their squalling spawn to the over-populated cesspool of the world, but now that I was in the position of Father Figure, it was different from anything I’d ever imagined.
Seeing myself in this ragamuffin didn’t give me any sort of fawning pride over myself like some fat-headed douche.
No, instead, it made me want to protect him from people who didn’t understand or disapproved of his quirks, and it made me want to elevate the parts of his character that were far better than mine.
If that’s what it was like to earn the title of ‘Dad,’ then I would strive my hardest to keep hearing Rylan call me that.
“On your feet, soldier, hips above your feet,” I said and helped the pouting kid back to standing. “Dig your heels in. Hands up to protect your chin, elbows in, head down. You don’t want to leave your head or neck open and vulnerable.”
“Like this?” Rylan adjusted his stance with my guidance and waited for further instructions.
“Very good,” I said and tried to push him over again, but he’d grounded his center of gravity fairly well. “Bend your knees more and stagger your feet for extra stability. There you go. Now, when you throw a jab, keep your hands loose, and rotate your body on the follow through. Watch.”
I stood parallel to him and demonstrated a left jab in slow-motion, but when he tried it, he still put a little too much power into his punch and stumbled forward a step.
“Don’t launch yourself forward,” I corrected and then kicked his legs further apart. “Your power comes from your core, not your arm.”
I maneuvered around to stand in front of him again and brought my palm up again for him to hit.
This time, when he jabbed, he had a lot more control.
“Hey!” he said in surprise after his fist connected with my hand with a satisfying smack.
“See?” I grinned at him. “Now, this time, extend your striking arm straight out while rotating your fist and make sure to keep your chin tucked against your shoulder.”
We continued like this for a while until Rylan had a pretty good handle on the jab, and we moved onto the right cross and various combinations thereof.
Finally, Rylan threw me a one-two that had me taking a step back in surprise at how fast and accurate his strikes were compared to the start.
“Damn, kid,” I said and shook out my hands as if they ached. “Good job.”
“Thanks, but can we take a break?” he panted. “My arms feel like jelly. I’ve never been really strong. I don’t know how you can swim so far sometimes, even though you’re not actually--”
I frowned at his particular wording and saw the moment he realized what he just said, too, because he snapped his mouth shut and hunched his shoulders like a guilty puppy that just peed on the rug.
“What are you talking about?” I asked him carefully. “Rylan, when have you seen me swim?”
“I, u-um,” he stuttered. “I haven’t. Not really. Well. I mean…”
“Rylan.” I stopped him before he could go on a rambling tirade. I had a sinking suspicion I knew what he was going to say next, but I wanted to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth.
The stable-boy took a deep breath and looked me in the eye.
“I’ve seen you swim,” he admitted. “Nearly every night in your dreams.”
Chapter 8
“You… wait… what?” I said as I tried to process what Rylan was telling me. “How can you see my dreams?”
“Forget I said anything!” Rylan nearly shouted and rushed toward the door. “It’s getting late, I think the poracks need to come in.”
“Ry--” I started, but before I could demand an answer to my question, he slipped around me, raced across the barn, and fled through the side door. “Rylan, stop!”
I ran after him, but as I closed the distance between us, I could hear him muttering one word under his breath between suppressed sobs.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid!”
“Rylan!” I yelled again, but he was too wrapped up in his head to listen to me properly, and he tried to hurdle over the fence that enclosed the estate’s south-western pasture.
Tried, was the key word, but he failed to clear the fence when the toe of his boot scrapped the top-most beam and sent him sprawling.
“Argh!” he screamed and tumbled ass-over-elbow until he landed with a painful sounding ‘oof!’ When he finally came to a stop, he immediately drew his knees up and folded himself over his clasped arms.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” He thumped his head against the brace of his forearms as he chastised himself again. Then he gave a wet sniff and went silent.
When it seemed like no other outbursts were apparent, and he was at least done running for now, I approached and sat on the grassy hill next to him.
“I’m just going to keep you company,” I said, and I draped my own forearms over my tented knees as I watched the two ox-roach creatures Big Ben and his brother Jerry graze on the sweet-smelling grass.
The sun was already getting low in the sky, and I mused at how the days seemed to be getting shorter. I was dimly reminded that the world I was on now was vastly different from my own, and I had to consider that time might go a little faster than I was used to.
Eventually, after sitting in silence just observing the poracks in the ever-approaching dusk, Rylan tipped over rigidly where he sat and leaned against my side.
“Please don’t be mad,” he mumbled through his arms in a small voice.
“I’m not mad,” I said and leaned back into his balled-up frame. “Confused, maybe, and a little concerned about you, but not mad.”
“I promise I won’t do it anymore,” he whispered.
“Look at me, please,” I instructed and patiently waited for him to raise his tear-streaked face. “Can we start by you telling me exactly what it is you’ve been doing? Just tell me as best as you can.”
The stable-boy took several calming breaths as if he was gearing himself up to reveal some life-altering secret, and I placed a solid hand on his back to try and get him to calm down and not be so freaked out.
“Ever since I was little…” Rylan started in a rough voice that started and stopped like an old car. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Ever since I was little, I’ve had this ability to visit people’s dreams.”
“How is that possible?” I asked in a calm voice even though the revelation was a huge and unexpected one.
“I’m not originally from Nata Isle,” he went on to say as he unconsciously snuggled closer. “I was born in a small Wandering Village in West Alem. Before I was conceived, my Village was visited by a Traveler. He seemed nice at first, and he showed the Village many useful things, like how to start fires instantly with a little device, and other things, but he wasn’t very nice for long. I didn’t find this out until much later, but apparently this Traveler was my father.”
“What happened to him?” I asked gently.
“He wanted my mother for himself, but she was already betrothed to the Village Leader, so he convinced her she loved him by entering her dreams and manipulating them,” he said as his expression grew dark. “Somehow, her betrothed found out about his nefarious plot, but by then it was too late. He left before he could be caught, but not without leaving something behind. Me.”
Rylan paused and tightened his hold around himself as if he was cold.
I gave him the moment he needed, but I squeezed the back of his neck to remind him not to get lost in his memories.
He took another deep breath and continued.
“My mother was never the same after that, and the Leader broke off their union, which added to her turmoil,” he said. “And then I only made it worse as I continued to get older. I guess I started looking more and more like the man who tricked her, and my face started to drive her mad until the sight of me would make her scream and try to hit me. I was sent to live with my grandparents for a while, and as long as I didn’t cause trouble, I was allowed to stay. But that didn’t last long.”
He stopped again as his hands crept up to tangle in the thicket of his sandy hair, and he yanked and pulled as if he could physically remove the painful memory from his head.
“I wasn’t aware of it at first, but I started slipping into people’s dreams while they slept,” he continued as if he was determined to finish the tale no matter what. “No one told me anything about my father at the time, so I thought I was helping people whenever it happened.”
“What do you mean, helping people?” I prodded.
“I can’t really explain it,” he said with a frown as he stared off into the distance. “The best I can describe is that it’s like a bell tolling somewhere far away, and for some reason, the bell sounds louder if a person needs help, as if they are calling out. When I was younger, I couldn’t resist the call if it was a strong one.”
“What’s a ‘strong call?’” I asked. “Like if a person is having a nightmare?”
“Yes, but it’s more than a nightmare,” he answered with a scowl. “It’s really hard to explain, but the best I’ve come to understand is that most dreams are ultimately meant to help us, especially if there are lessons we need to learn.”
“Let me guess, you helped.” I grinned and draped my arm around his shrinking shoulders.
“When people dream, they don’t understand they are dreaming and can’t see things for what they are sometimes,” he said with a shrug. “I just… nudged them in the right direction sometimes, or provided a piece of vital information so they would stop wrestling with whatever it was that was troubling them. At first, it was only my grandmother who knew what I was doing, and she told me to keep it quiet. The woman never nurtured me like I had hoped, but she was always honest and taught me about my mother, my Traveler father, and the dangerous power I inherited from him. She warned me that if our Village Leader ever found out, I would be exiled. She was right.”
He choked back a sob and buried his head back in his arms.
“Hey, bud,” I said and chafed his arm where I could feel a shocking chill start to creep into his skin. “Let’s take a quick break and put Ben and Jerry up, and then I don’t know about you, but I could use some hot chocolate.”
